The human in monster disguise
by TheFerociousHeart
Summary: A girl, claiming to be Deucalion's daughter, shows up in Beacon Hills shortly after the alpha pack. She asks for Peter's help but as they are preparing for a fight against them, she starts to remember what kind of man her father used to be. Will the truth help them? - Peter/OC
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: **If you saw _Visionary_ (3x08) you know about Deucalion's past (if not, jump to the beginning of the story).

This means the idea of a Deucalion who once had a daughter or even a normal family doesn't even sound that crazy anymore. I mean, I can totally imagine him to be a perfectly normal and nice guy. So yes, I'm writing an OC into the story, because right now I guess both Peter and even Deucalion are manipulative little... you know. Later on I might even write a series of one-shots about Angela's childhood when her father visited her.

All the Deucalion feels...

* * *

Before even reaching the door of his apartment, Peter smelled it, the unmistakable scent of a werewolf from inside. For a second, keeping his long fingers firmly around the doorknob, he hesitated and thought about the possibilities. The alpha pack was in Beacon Hills, that much they had already known. Since he wasn't exactly on the best terms with Derek lately, and the others also avoided him, he ran out of the werewolves who would be even willing to visit him these days. But it was still his own home therefore he couldn't just stay away until this unidentified problem went away.

Letting out a sigh, he opened the door, walking in as if there was no problem at all. Everything seemed to be the same, no visible sign of an unwanted intruder until his blue eyes fell on the armchair across the living room. It was a young girl who couldn't be older that Scott and the others. She was sitting there with her hands resting in her lap, keeping her pale green eyes on him as he walked a bit closer.

"Did you know there's a reason why people lock the door when they leave?" he asked mockingly with raised eyebrows, raising the keychain he was still holding in his hand. "It's to keep everyone without a key outside." Peter watched the girl, waiting for a retort or anything else, but she stayed quiet. Long seconds passed with a staring contest between the two that he got bored of quite soon. "You know, I'm waiting for some kind of an explanation."

The girl bit her lower lip as she ran a hand through her strawberry blond hair, and watched him sit on the couch across from her with his legs on the coffee table. "Before you even start wondering," she started slowly, "I'm not with the alpha pack."

"Wow that explained everything."

"No need to be sarcastic, Peter. I need to know who I can trust when all hell breaks loose."

The tone she used seemed surprisingly confident, but Peter could smell fear radiating from her, and there was also that barely visible movement of her fingers, giving away her true feelings immediately. A menacing comment was already waiting to be said out loud on the tip of his tongue, but he decided to keep quiet for now. She knew about the alpha pack and she was scared of them, so maybe, and strictly maybe, she might as well say something interesting.

"I don't want to be here, but I had no other choice, so I thought it would be the best if-"

"Wait, why don't you start with some basic things?" he interrupted her. "Such as how did you get in and who the hell are you?"

She tilted her head to the side before shrugging. "You have a spare key and you don't exactly need to be some master detective to find it. Anyway, my name is Angela Moran, nice to meet you."

"That's better. I'm Peter Hale."

"Yeah, I know."

She might have been waiting there long enough to go through his things, so she probably knew a few things about him. But it didn't surprise Peter and he didn't even feel like bringing this up now. Instead he took a deep breath and folded his hands behind his neck. I took her an eternity to speak up again and he was pretty close to standing up and getting a beer from the fridge.

"Can I go on now?" When Peter nodded, she said, "So obviously, I'm a werewolf, I know about the pack, about you guys, and how your nephew is one of their targets. Since I'm not exactly on the best terms with my werewolfie side, I don't think I'll help you fight them or anything. Actually, I want to stay out of this mess."

How can anyone not be on good terms with their werewolf side? It was a gift, whether you were born as a werewolf or if you were bitten later. When he had offered the Bite to Stiles, even he was thinking about accepting it. And Scott? He turned out better than he expected, possibly enjoying his new life as a werewolf. As much as he wanted to ask her about it, though, Peter didn't want to change the subject for now.

Angela turned her head to look out of the window, obviously avoiding his eyes. "Sadly, what I want and what is expected to happen might turn out to be two very different things, so I need someone I can trust just in case."

"And that person would be me."

"And that person would be you," she repeated with a nod. "The pack... well, as far as I know they did their homework. They always do, they want to know and control everything, and I guess they will leave you alone unless you help the others."

He leaned forward as she looked back at him. "Let me guess, it's only because they all hate me and I'm not exactly hanging out with them."

"Correct."

The way she was talking about the alpha pack rang the alarm in his mind, pointing out she possibly knew more than they did. Even if he hated to admit it, Derek was still his family, the only living Hale around, so if it all came down to this, he would help without hesitation. "You know," he started slowly. "I don't like this cryptic conversation. You keep talking about trust, but trust works both ways, so come on and be honest."

"I need to know who's on your side. As far as I know there are werewolves around my age which means I'll probably meet them in school when it starts."

Peter waited, unable to say anything in response to the girl's statement, stood up and brought himself a cold beer. His eyes were lingering on her fragile-looking form as she was sitting there with her legs crossed. She didn't look like a werewolf; not like there was a typical look for them. Angela, under the calm surface, was obviously desperate, and this is exactly why she was now sitting in his living room.

A teenage girl, obviously in the middle of the entire mess since she had just told him she didn't even want to be in Beacon Hills in the first place. Whatever she was hiding, Peter knew he could use it as an advantage later, so throwing out the intruder was out of question, even if he had to restrain himself not to do so.

"Why should I trust you, Angela?" he asked, earning a questioning look from the girl. "It seems like you know a lot of things about us, about me, damn, even about the alpha pack, but you still keep me in the dark. If you want trust, prove me you deserve mine. Who are you exactly? And how on earth can you possibly know these things about the pack?"

"I guess I'd better leave now," she suddenly said as she jumped up and started towards the door.

Peter followed her, making sure he reached the door sooner so she couldn't leave the apartment. "You're not going anywhere," he growled. "Not until you answered my questions."

"Let me out."

With a roll of his eyes, Peter grabbed her neck and slammed her back into the nearest wall. She gulped, but her eyes and teeth remained the same as she looked up at him. "I guess it means you miss the point, kid. You broke into my home, kept talking about trust and the alpha pack, but I still don't know anything. So let's go back to the basics, okay? Are you an alpha?" he asked, even though he already knew the answer for that.

"No, I'm not."

"An omega?"

"Technically, I am, but," she started then her voice trailed off for a few seconds, "it's complicated."

Peter was getting irritated by her answers. "Complicated how?"

"I guess I somehow balance between the state of an omega and a beta."

This didn't make any sense, but he tried to figure out a way to understand her answer. Maybe she was trying to get away from her alpha, or... No, he had no idea what was going on with this girl. She, in general, didn't seem to make any sense at all. "I'm listening," he said, waiting for her to continue.

"Even though I'm trying to stay out of this werewolf business, my father is an alpha," she finally answered quietly, her eyes leaving his and moving down to his chest.

Peter's fingers loosened around her throat and used his thumb to make her look up at him again. "An alpha?" he asked with a frown.

The girl nodded in response.

"Let me guess, he's in the alpha pack. This is how you know those things."

"Correct."

He didn't believe it was true, but had to ask her anyway, "So they sent you here to spy on us?"

"No!" she objected immediately. "I want them to die or leave, just as much as you do."

"Who is he exactly?" The girl didn't answer, only chewed her lower lip while trying to avoid looking into his blue eyes. "Angela," Peter said, his voice gentle and not as harsh as it had been a few seconds ago. He could hear her heartbeat that told him she was too scared to lie at the moment. Actually, he almost felt bad for her.

"His name is Deucalion. Look, I don't know everything, I don't even know the others, but I meant when I said I want to get rid of him. Just try and believe me, okay?"

Peter decided not to say anything. He simply stepped back and opened the door for her without even looking at the girl as she left. If it was true, and this was a huge _if_ in this case, the fact she contacted him on her own free will might as well turn out to be useful later. But the biggest question was whether or not calling Derek with the news. After all, he didn't know specific details apart from the name of one of the alphas, and that they knew a lot of things about them.

It was nothing.

Lying down across the couch, he was staring up at the ceiling, trying to figure out what to do now. Obviously he couldn't let her turn her back on them, but knowing Derek he would be more than suspicious of the girl. So he decided to handle it alone until the alpha pack made a move. Better to keep her close than pushing her right into the arms of the enemy. If, he thought, she would ever be willing to help her father.

Without turning his head, Peter stretched his arm to pick up the bottle from the table but as he raised it, he noticed there was a piece of paper stuck to its bottom.


	2. Chapter 2

He was starting to feel like some stalker as he sat on a big branch of a tree, keeping an eye on the house across the street. Angela had left a piece of paper with her number on his coffee table before she left, so finding out where she lived wasn't too hard for him. Unlike Derek, as he had the fortune to find out, he was pretty comfortable with using technology. Once the last light was turned off in the house, Peter jumped off and walked over there, determined to use her window instead of the front door. He had no idea if she was alone or not, so this seemed to be the best solution.

Trying not to make a noise that would wake her up, he peered inside through the window. The room was surprisingly messy, not like he would expect from a girl, but otherwise there were accessories, makeup products and books scattered around the place. He carefully opened the window, just until it gave him enough space to climb in. Once he felt the cold floor under his feet, Peter turned back and carefully closed the window again. Looking around the room once again, he found the bed and also an armchair across from it.

The young werewolf's heart was beating steadily. He couldn't believe she was still sleeping, even though he had been sitting in that armchair for a while now. In a way, Angela was an entertaining person to watch sleeping as she tossed and turned until eventually half of her body ended up next to the bed. With a cruel smile on his face, Peter picked up a small ballerina figurine and let it fall on the wooden floor. The crash's sound was loud; loud enough to finally wake her up.

A pair of yellow eyes glowed in the dark as she turned towards the source of the sound, but she didn't sit up. Her breathing only changed for a second or two then it became normal again. Of him, she didn't seem to be afraid, not like when it had come to Deucalion during their conversation a couple of days ago.

"I thought you weren't on good terms with your werewolf side," he said quietly, a hint of his previous smirk still playing on his lips as he was tapping his fingers on his thigh.

Angela let out a tired sigh, her eyes back to their normal green color as she turned on the lights. "That's true, but infra-red comes in handy when a stranger is sitting in my bedroom," she replied with a roll of her eyes and sat on the edge of the bed.

For a second he let his eyes wander down her body and the long shirt she was wearing for sleeping, but quickly shifted his gaze back up to look into her eyes. "I thought I wasn't a stranger anymore."

"You know what I mean."

Flashing a smile at her, he said, "Please, enlighten me."

"That's not funny."

Suddenly Angela stood up and walked towards the door of her room. There was nothing else to do so, while trying to forget the fact she didn't live alone in the house, he followed the young girl. "It could be," he said quietly, almost missing as the muscles in her back tensed upon hearing this short sentence.

"What are you doing here, Peter?"

She only stopped when they reached the living room and, just then, in the deafening silence could he hear it: no sound of others being in the house. This new piece of information was confirmed after she casually turned on the lights in the room and gave him an expectant look. To this question, though, he didn't have a proper answer. After all those days he simply felt the need to come here, maybe even getting answers to all the crazy question that appeared in his mind over and over again.

Peter remained silent. It was still better than acting like a teenage boy who was trying hard to talk to some girl he liked. On a small table by the wall he noticed a framed picture of Angela and a man and a woman who were legally her foster parents. The internet is a wonderful thing and he still couldn't get over the fact how much you can find out about a person if you know where to look. Picking it up, he turned to the girl, resting his hips against the table.

"Where are they?"

"Out," she replied with a shrug. "They'll only come home after midnight. Look, is this why you came here, to take a look at the house where I live?"

"You have foster parents," he stated, earning a small nod from her. "And Deucalion is your biological father, right?" Again, there was a nod in response. "Clear this story up for me, Angela, because I'm kind of lost here."

Letting out a long sigh she sat on the couch and waited for him to sit down next to her before she spoke up. "My mother was one of his betas. She never tried to hide the fact she loved him and, as far as my mom's story goes, he used it to his advantage. After all, he's a man with certain needs, but," her voice trailed off as she looked down at her folded hands. "The circumstances were pretty completed and after she found out she was pregnant with me, my mom left him. Surprisingly, Deucalion didn't even try to stop her."

He appreciated how she opened up for him, demonstrating the trust she had been talking about while also proving he was right and it really did work both ways.

"He didn't forget about us, though," she continued after clearing her throat. "My mom told me he had appeared a couple of times every year, making sure I was okay, and even trying to teach me a few things. When I got older, he once told me to go with him, leaving my mother behind. I was only nine, so I said no and, only to prove his point, he killed my mother. He's my father, my alpha and, as a good daughter, I should be following his orders. That was the moment when I told him I hated being a werewolf, that all I wanted was a normal life and staying away from this madness. He left. I got foster parents and lived the normal life I always wanted."

Peter remembered something, something she had said back in his apartment. This story, if it was true, that is, explained her hate and fear when it came to the alpha, but there was a part of the situation he couldn't place yet. "You said you didn't want to be here. Then how did you end up in Beacon Hills?"

"Somehow he contacted my parents and made them move here. As far as I know he pulled the biological father card. The overall plan is revenge, I guess," the girl replied with a shrug.

Lie, lie, lie. Peter had a terribly good sense to detect a lie, and this young lady next to him was lying through her teeth. Well, at least she wasn't telling him the entire truth. He nodded, but didn't say anything about his recent discovery. Instead he pulled up one of his knees as he turned to face her with a hopefully concerned-looking expression.

"Look, Angela, I'm sorry to hear this and all, but I still don't know what do you want from me exactly."

"As far as I know, you're not exactly planning on fighting at the moment," she replied, her eyes locked with his.

Peter shrugged. "Yeah, well, dying then coming back to life takes a lot out of you."

"What I'm trying to say is," she spoke up again, ignoring his comment, "that I don't want anyone to get hurt because of them. So if he dragged me here, there had to be a good reason, right? Maybe I can do something good in my life by trying to get any kind of information out of him that can help you."

Even hours after their conversation, Peter still had no idea what was going on with her.

Right after her little speech about her utterly ridiculous plan of playing some kind of a double agent, Angela had gone to sleep and he started to walk home. The cool air was perfect to clear his head, giving him the opportunity to properly process the conversation. Somewhere deep inside, even if he hated to admit it, Peter wanted it to be true. He wanted to believe there was someone who had the chance to get close to the alphas, even as some kind of an enemy from a private war between father and daughter.

And at the same time there was doubt as well. What if she hadn't been telling him the truth? What if she wasn't related to the alpha and only contacted him because she was following an order? But no, she was telling the truth. There was something she tried to hide, of course, but it couldn't be all that serious.

He also knew from personal experience that the loss of a loved one can be one of the greatest triggers for revenge in the world. Instead of killing people like he had done, Angela was helping her father's enemies, probably risking her life with this move.

Coming to an abrupt halt, Peter reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

"It's Peter," he said once there was an answer from the other end of the line. "I need you to do me a favor... I'm serious and it's important... Yes, I know," he growled with a roll of his eyes, mouthing _unbelievable_ to himself. "I need information about the death of the biological mother of a girl... Stop asking stupid questions and try to focus... Her name is Angela Moran. Probably it happened somewhere else but I'm sure you can find a way to get it... Then figure out something, because it's important... Just do it and call me when you got it," he barked before he ended the call.

Hopefully the official version will help him find out if he was right or not. If his theory was right, all he had to do was waiting for the right moment to corner her and get everything out of her. Everything she hadn't told him yet. Because, and he was a hundred percent sure about this, the most important thing about the alpha pack was yet to be revealed by her. It had to be important and he was dying to find it out.

* * *

**Author's note:** I can't believe I got so many reviews after the first chapter. Thank you guys, seriously. Anyway, this was a quick update, I hope you enjoyed it.


	3. Chapter 3

School was just about to get started. It was weird, really, being in the same building with several werewolves, let alone when two of them were alphas and two were betas. And then, when she had thought it couldn't get any weirder than this, Peter told her about the Argent girl, the little archer who had been dating a werewolf before. How poetic.

"A freaking hunter among all those werewolves," Angela said as she came to an abrupt halt in the middle of his living room. The other werewolf shrugged, not bothering with an answer. "You don't seem upset about this," she pointed out.

"I'm not a high school student."

The girl's eyes widened for a second as she sat on the arm of the couch next to him, watching as he stood up and walked out of the room. "You don't say?" she asked slowly, shaking her head.

"Anyway, all that changed with this year is that you'll have two alphas there. Last year there was a murderous lizard as well." His statement sounded as if it was perfectly normal around Beacon Hills, having not only werewolves and a hunter in high school, but also some weird reptilian. "Don't worry," he said after seeing the shocked expression on her face, "he turned into a werewolf and moved to London to get his happy end."

"Wait, you said he was a lizard."

Peter returned from the kitchen with his coffee in hand, and casually leaned his shoulder against the doorframe. "He wanted the bite and got it, but he became a lizard. Well, a kanima, to be exact, and once his little emotional problems were solved, he finally turned into a werewolf."

"Is there something in the water here?"

The older man flashed a cocky smirk at the girl, his blue eyes fixed on her face. Ever since their conversation in her house, they had only met a couple of times, mostly because she wanted to know what to expect in school. The biggest problem was staying away from this madness since it wouldn't take the others to catch her scent, figuring out there was one more werewolf in sight.

He tried to help by explaining what she had to know about that place and the other students, telling her about Scott, Isaac, Stiles, Allison, and Lydia, people whose name she could barely memorize, let alone trying to connect them to faces based on the description he gave her.

Angela stopped the car in the school's parking lot, spending a few minutes only sitting in there and thinking about whether or not missing the first day would be a better option. But this wasn't a real option, because the least she could do for Jeremy and Christine for taking her in was being a good girl and not getting into trouble.

Letting out a sigh she got out and walked into the building, looking for her locker. It had taken her long minutes to find the one she was looking for. Some students gave her strange looks as they passed her, possibly because she was new, but it didn't bother her at all. Faceless students with their weird looks were still less frightening than the werewolves.

Then she felt it. The unmistakable scent of werewolves and, glancing around, she quickly noticed the two boys walking right towards her. They were identical twins, the ones his father had warned her about before they moved here. Peter even tried to joke as if it was an act of kindness, warning his daughter that two of his men were keeping an eye on her just in case.

They stopped and she waited patiently with her arms crossed over her chest. No manners at all, she noted in herself since neither of them greeted her. "We need to talk to you," one of them stated, beginning the conversation.

"I don't think so," she replied as she turned back to her locker and closed it properly.

"I said," he said, taking a step closer to her, "we need to talk. Deucalion sent you a message."

She quickly spun around to face him. "And why would that concern me?" Angela asked with furrowed eyebrows. "I'm pretty sure he could find a way to contact me directly if he wanted to."

"He wants to meet you," the other one told her coldly.

"Tell him that my answer is no."

"He doesn't take no as an answer."

Angela couldn't help but shrug, even though she knew well enough this might had been pushing her luck too far. "Then it's time for him to get used to it."

A pair of red eyes glared down at her not a second later as he pushed her against the locker. "If you don't come on your own free will," he started darkly, his eyes returning to their normal color, "we will drag you there whether you want it or not."

Only to make a point, he sank three claws into her chest.

When he pulled away and checked his nails if he had to wipe off her blood or not, his brother gave her a cold look. "And we won't exactly be gentle," he said with a cruel smile.

There was something about them, something behind this threatening and confident exterior she couldn't place at first. They were both alphas, but the alpha pack, and Peter had confirmed it before, was led by her father. Maybe this little thing meant a lot under these circumstances and she had an idea what it might be.

"You wouldn't hurt me," Angela said with an amused smile. "You can't hurt me, can you? I don't think he would let you do anything to me, because if there's anyone who can hurt me it's him," she explained as her smile transformed into a satisfied grin. Maybe she hated her father, but it was still true.

"You'll end up there one way or another, Angela."

"Give me a number and I'll call him. Then, if you don't mind, I have a class to attend. But I guess I'm not the only one."

A tiny little piece of paper was all she had given them along with a pen, because giving her phone in their hands might as well turn out to be suicide.

After finding a quiet corner Angela pulled out her phone and entered the number the twins gave her. She didn't have much time before her class, but it was better to get this conversation over with once and for all. Putting the piece of paper in the pocket of her jeans, she smiled to herself. Like there was a chance Deucalion would ever leave her alone.

He answered rather quickly, his British accent confirming it really was him. Angela was stroking the nape of her neck as she was thinking about what to say. It had been some time since they last talked and now it was surprisingly awkward for the girl. This man, whether she wanted to admit it or not, was her father.

Her real father, who, in some way, was still her alpha.

"Your lapdogs told me you wanted to meet me," she stated immediately.

"My lapdogs?" he asked with a hint of amusement in his voice. "But it's true, none the less, but as far as I'm concerned, darling, this is only a phone call."

There it was again; correcting her and pointing out obvious things as if he was teaching her whether she wanted it or not. Angela rolled her eyes as she took a look around to make sure she was alone.

"They threatened me to drag me to you. Even hurt me if I left no other choice to them. I guess it's a more... sophisticated and safe way to arrange a meeting. Don't you agree, my dear father?"

"There's no need to be sarcastic, Angela," Deucalion pointed out almost kindly. "But I appreciate the fact you called me so soon."

"Get them off my back and I'll meet you."

"Don't be paranoid; they aren't there because of you. But fine, I'll talk to them."

"Thank you. When and where?"

"There's a little café not far from your school. Call me back when you're done for today and I'll tell you the address."

"Alright. Any reasons why you want to meet in public?"

"I know you. It will be better this way because you'll hopefully behave."

"It's nice to know you have so much faith in me."

"You are a lot like your mother, Angela. I'm only keeping that in mind."

"I'll call you later."

Without waiting for an answer from him, she ended the call and headed to class. This conversation was getting ridiculous, especially when he dared to bring up her mother. After all that had happened in the past, she wanted to forget her previous life. Angela had always loved her mother, still did, but by now her memories receded and her personality was something she could barely remember.

Every once in a while during her classes, Angela found herself glancing at the clock, listening to the well-known ticking sound until she was finally free. There was no need for another call to her father because he had left a message shortly after their conversation with the address.

Most students were talking about the strange bird-attack, but she couldn't care less as she headed towards her car. Sure, it sounded pretty unnatural, a bunch of birds flying right into the building without even trying to avoid the collision, but this seemed quite a small thing compared to what was about to happen.

"You're late," she stated with her arms folded over her chest. With a hand resting on the top of the cane, the alpha smiled down at her. "I had been waiting for a pretty long time in the afternoon before one of your lapdogs gave me a call saying you won't make it and would like to rearrange this meeting for tonight."

He took a deep breath then let out a long sigh. "I gave a visit to someone in the hospital. I hope it's a good excuse, darling."

"Don't darling me, I don't buy it," she snapped aggressively.

After letting out a long sigh, she started to guide her father to the door without a question. Once they stepped inside, a couple of people turned to look at them, but the rest of the customers returned to their conversations without staring at them. Angela couldn't help but admit that his father had the kind of attitude in public that could sweep most people off their feet immediately.

"I know you'd call Jeremy or Christine if I didn't agree to meet you today," Angela began as they sat down. "They wouldn't be happy to hear that I was rude to my blind father."

With a satisfied smirk on his face, Deucalion leant forward. "After what happened, I understand why you don't like me," he said, and stayed quiet for a few seconds as the girl let out a sarcastic snort. "But why do you think I wanted you to be here? To kill you? Don't be ridiculous, Angela."

* * *

**Author's note:** Thank you for the favs, alerts and reviews. After seeing _Visionary_ I don't even know what to say; I just love Deucalion, and the main idea of this story came before the actual episode, so now the "old Deucalion" is kinda canon. I can totally imagine him with a family.

Anyway, I'm interested in what you think about the story.


	4. Chapter 4

The only reason Peter wanted to visit the girl was to see how her first day in school went. Lahey had been attacked by the alpha twins the night before and, according to Derek, the alphas also appeared at the hospital in the afternoon. They were getting closer to the time when her connection to Deucalion would be inevitably used against the alphas so making sure she was on their side was important.

At first he tried her window like he had done the last time to avoid her parents but it was carefully closed, probably because of him. He had no other choice but climbing back down and trying the front door after he dusted off his clothes. Before he rang the doorbell, he heard their conversation from inside so he decided to wait and listen.

"When will you meet your father?" asked a woman.

He heard as Angela's heart rate rose at the question. "I did today," she replied with a long sigh.

"Really? Why haven't you told us about it?"

"Because it's not that interesting."

"How is he?" It was a man this time, talking from another part of the house.

"Fine."

"Angie."

"I said he's fine," she replied angrily. "Can we just go and eat? I'm starving."

Peter smiled to himself but decided to help her by finally ringing the doorbell. Her light steps became louder as she reached the door, her eyes wide from surprise. Why she was surprised to find him there was a mystery since her werewolves senses should have already told her that another werewolf was right outside.

"Hi," he said as he raised his hand.

She stayed quiet, her mouth slightly parted while she probably tried to figure out what to do now. Peter heard her parents inside but so far neither of them were heading to the door. It was good, he didn't necessarily need company for this short conversation. Only now did he realize she was wearing a white summer dress with an elegant black flowery pattern which probably meant they weren't eating at home as he had expected.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she finally asked.

"I just wanted to see how was your first day in school."

Her body visibly tensed and she bit her lower lip so hard he thought it would bleed. "There's a great invention called phone for that."

"It's better to talk to someone in person."

"Then why didn't you use my window like you've done before?"

The question came so naturally that for a second he took it as an invitation, as if he could climb into her room whenever he wanted to. Not like he wouldn't do that without her permission. "It's closed," he pointed out casually.

Angela's eyes narrowed at first but then she said, "Oh, yeah, right. I closed it because of you."

"Thanks for that."

"You're welcome."

"Angie, who is it?" came her father's voice from inside.

The girl hesitated for a second, looking around to see if there was anything to say, but none of the objects gave her the idea she needed at the moment. "No one!"

"Doesn't sound like no one, honey," he said as he walked up to them. "Hello," he said slowly.

Of course, they hadn't met. He extended a hand to introduce himself properly. "Hi, I'm-"

"He's Peter," Angela interrupted him. "He... uhm... he helps my father while he's here."

Peter's gaze shifted to the blond girl. It was incredible, how easily she connected him to her biological father, the very person they were up against. On the other hand it worked, because the other man's face lit up.

"Oh, it's nice to meet you, I'm Jeremy," he said as he stepped aside. "Come in."

Angela's eyes glowed yellow for a second, long enough for him to notice and, to make a point, she rested her hand against the doorframe opposite of her. "Actually we were just about to leave," she stated calmly.

"Yeah, right," her father said while he pushed Angela's hand away. "Are you hungry? There's this amazing restaurant not far from here and we were just about to go there."

"Dad, I don't think he'd-"

Peter flashed his most charming smile at them. "Actually it sounds great."

"What? No, it's a family thing, you can't come with us."

"Don't be rude, Angie."

"I'm not rude I'm just-"

"Yes, you are rude. He can come with us. It would be nice to get to know him and, to be honest, you should finally invite your father as well."

The teenager huffed sarcastically. "Well, I didn't invite Peter and I won't invite my father either."

In the end her parents won. He had an utterly boring chat with them before they sat into their car while Peter walked to his own, ready to follow them to their destination. Only ten minutes later they stopped in front of a small restaurant, one he hadn't seen before as it was hidden from the busy roads. He wasn't hungry, but, and he hated to admit it, it was nice to spend an evening in the company of other people and not alone as he usually did. Angela sometimes acted like an annoying little brat, but most of the time he actually liked her.

The worst thing was how Jeremy or Christine kept asking him about Deucalion, the man he had never met but was supposed to be his friend. Lies followed each other as he built up a story, mostly based on what she had told him before. They were nice people and he understood why they were so important to her, but after a while their questions were close to pushing him over the edge. When it became harder to keep his emotions along with his heartbeat in control, Angela, who was sitting next to him, put a hand on his thigh to calm him down.

He was actually happy to know her hearing worked after all because this simple touch helped a lot. She had only been mean to him back in the house because she was very protective of her parents and after what she had gone through he perfectly understood it.

Once they were outside, heading to their cars, Peter scratched the back of his neck and turned to the adults. "Do you mind if Angela comes with me? There's something her father wants me to talk to her about," he explained, hoping the fact he was supposed to be the friend of Deucalion made the decision easier for them. "I'll have to stop at the closest gas station though, but otherwise we'll be right behind you," he added with a smile.

Christine smiled back at him. "No problem," she replied then turned to the girl. "Angie, behave."

"Sure," she said with a shrug.

He and Angela got into his car and drove in silence until they reached the gas station and he stopped as he had told her parents. "I need to talk to you," he told her after he stopped. Long seconds passed in complete silence because she kept staring out of the window, watching as the cars passed by on the road. In the dimly lit car she looked older than she was, the stress and constant worry about her foster parents' possible death visible despite the light makeup she wore.

Just when Peter thought she wouldn't answer, Angela's green eyes turned to him. "Then talk, we're alone now."

"I guess it will be a longer conversation than this ride," he explains as he started the engine. "Your parents probably wouldn't be glad if I went to your room using the front door, so do me a favor and open the window."

She started to laugh and leaned the side of her head against the window. "This is such a cliché, Peter."

Even though he had no idea what she was talking about, he didn't ask her. They didn't have to for this, a lecture possibly about chick lit and other ridiculous but popular movies teenage girls were crying over these days. "Look, I heard you'd met Deucalion today and I have to know what happened exactly."

"Nothing that concerns you," she replied coldly.

"Everything concerns me."

"Since when?"

Peter glanced over at her with a satisfied smirk. "Since you broke into my apartment," he explained. It was true; the day he had found her on his couch they were on the same side in the same war, getting ready to fight the common enemy. Maybe Angela wasn't a particularly experienced or strong werewolf, but she was still the alpha's daughter.

"Touché."

At least she admitted it and promised she would finally let him in. Peter stopped in front of the house and told her he would be back soon, then she walked into the house and he left, finding a place a few blocks away where he could leave his car. He opened the trunk and watched the thick file inside. It was everything Stiles could gather about her, once again using the advantages of being the sheriff's son. There were pictures of the crime scene from the night her mother had died, pictures he only wanted to use in case she wanted to stay out of the entire mess. Rage was a strong emotion and he was willing to use hers against Deucalion.

The window was opened as promised so he climbed in. Angela was sitting on her bed, her head rested against the headboard and she was staring at the white ceiling. He hesitated. There was something about the way she ignored him that set off the alarm in his mind.

"One thing is now clear," she broke the silence, finally shifting her gaze to look at him, "he doesn't want to kill me. At least that's what he said."

Oh, sure, he said he wouldn't hurt her. Because telling the truth after he had even killed the mother of his own child was possible. Of course, she was young and naïve, and after long hours of therapy she was possibly ready to trust people again. "Do you believe him?"

"I don't know. I mean, I guess he's trying to keep me in line with my parents."

At least she was aware of that part. It was a good sign, but Angela's gaze fell on her hands that were folded in her lap. "What is it?" he asked quietly.

"I'm just afraid he will hurt them," she replied honestly. So much for her trust when it comes to that son of a bitch, he thought. "They helped me through everything and I could finally have a perfectly normal, werewolf-free life thanks to them."

Their safety was really important to her and he could understand why. Derek lost his family as a teenager and his life was completely ruined by it, but Angela wasn't even ten at the time and Deucalion killed her mother right in front of her eyes. It was too much. Peter was surprised she didn't end up spending the rest of her life in an asylum. "He probably won't go this far, don't worry," he said with a reassuring smile as he crouched down next to the bed and put a hand on hers.

"I'm not so sure he won't," Angela replied, a tear rolling down her cheek.

Peter bit his lower lip as he watched her fall apart right in front of him. There was no one she could talk to about this problem; no one who could possibly understand the seriousness of this issue without being told about werewolves. He knew exactly how losing your family could destroy anyone and he was sure this girl didn't deserve this. Not now and not this way that is. "Hey, do you want me to stay here just in case?"

"Well, it sounds ridiculous from a teenager, I know, but can you stay here until I fall asleep?" she asked with an apologetic smile.

He agreed because she needed the company of someone who knew exactly what kind of thoughts were haunting her at the moment. And, on the other hand, even he needed the company of someone who wasn't thinking about killing him again all the time.

* * *

**Author's note:** Sorry for the slow updates but I was working on the other fic and life came in the way. Thanks for the reviews and everything. I hope you liked it.


	5. Chapter 5

Stiles was pacing back and forth in the loft while he talked and Peter could barely take it anymore. He was only sitting on the couch with his feet on the coffee table but the teenager's nervous pacing made him nauseous. Closing his eyes helped for a few seconds but the boys' footsteps were still loud enough to drive him crazy.

"Does he know that you're not even listening?"

It was Angela. He had called her a few minutes ago, putting the little Bluetooth headset in his right ear so Stiles wouldn't notice it anytime soon. He didn't have to speak loud because the girl could hear it anyway and this way he could talk to someone who wasn't a total wreck. Peter thought the young human boy worried way too much lately and he felt really bad for him. He was smart and helped them a lot, whether or not Derek wanted to admit it.

"I don't think so," he finally replied with a small smirk.

"You should tell him."

"Not yet."

Before she could say anything in response, Stiles raised his hand and looked directly at him. "Wait a sec. Wait a sec. Maybe they're living there," he stated. "You know? Like, maybe the bank vault reminds them of their little wolf dens."

At the last word Peter opened his eyes and gave him a questioning look. "Wolf dens?"

"Yeah, wolf dens. Where do you live?"

"In an underground network of caves hidden deep in the woods," Peter explained seriously.

Stiles froze and stared at him. "Whoa, really?"

"No, you idiot," he laughed, still not moving from the couch as he listened to the girl laughing as well on the other end of the line. "I have an apartment downtown."

"Tell him they sure as hell don't live there. My father's British, for God's sake, he has a much more sophisticated taste. He wouldn't live in an abandoned bank," she added, trying not to start laughing again.

Peter was amused by her reaction, the carefree laugh while she was talking about her father. Every now and again he wondered where she was at the moment. Probably at home, sitting on her bed with the book she was reading. A few days ago she had stumbled across Bushido and Hagakure in his apartment and he let her take them for a while since it was still better than most of the novels teenagers were reading these days.

"Stiles, Angela wants me to tell you her father has a much more sophisticated taste than to live in that bank," he informed the boy.

"Angela? Who the hell is she and," Stiles stopped in the middle of the sentence, the look on his face slowly changing when he realized something. "Oh, you've been on the phone all along?"

As he nodded, Peter fought back a yawn. Derek's couch was way too comfortable. "You were mostly having a conversation with yourself, Stiles. And she's the new girl in your school," he said, answering the first question.

Stiles folded his arms over his chest as he kept staring at him. "Did you just say 'her father'?"

"I'll call you back," Peter said with a sigh before taking out the device. "Yes, I did."

"Are you trying to tell me her father is..."

"Deucalion," he finished the sentence.

Chewing his lower lip, Stiles ran a hand through his hair. "Wait, you asked me to find a police report about Angela Moran's mother," he said quietly then successfully put the pieces together. "It's her!"

"Now is not the time to talk about it."

"Okay, fine. So the den. That just proves that there's something up with the bank..."

Peter was surprised to see how easily Stiles gave in. He thought he would keep asking questions, interrogating him until he finally told him everything about the girl. But this is not what happened and he was almost disappointed. At the same time, though, it probably meant he had another plan and it didn't involve him.

* * *

The next day Angela was sitting alone at lunch but then, out of nowhere, Stiles appeared and sat down across from her. She looked up at the boy with raised eyebrows since she had seen Scott and the others sit somewhere else. As Stiles made it look like he only chose this table because he felt like sitting somewhere else for a change, Angela knew it had something to do with what had happened the previous evening. Peter told her everything about their conversation and she knew he knew.

Silence. Stiles didn't even look at her as he ate his lunch but she didn't move and didn't eat. She was waiting to find out what he wanted exactly because there was no way he could keep going on without saying a word. Soon the boy broke and put his elbows on the table so he could rest his chin on his hands.

"Did you know that Peter made me do a background check on you a few weeks ago?" he asked casually.

It wasn't even close to what she was expecting to hear. "What are you talking about?"

Stiles flashed a satisfied smile at her as he leaned back in the chair. "He called me one night and asked me to find the police report about your biological mother's death. I didn't know why it was important to him and Peter never told me." He stopped and waited, but his fingertips were ceaselessly tapping on the metal table. "According to the report they never found the killer so it probably has something to do with that."

Letting out a long sigh, she said, "Deucalion killed her. That's it."

"So he's right and you really want him dead."

"No, Stiles, I don't," she snapped at him, making a few students turn their heads to look at them. "Violence doesn't solve anything," she went on, trying to keep her voice down. "There's always another solution you only have to find because killing the enemy would simply turn you into a monster as well. Find a peaceful way to make them stop and be better than they are," she added, quoting what she had heard way too many times when she was a child.

He furrowed his eyebrows at this but the look on his face was surprisingly stern. "Why are you so sure? Deucalion and the other Alphas would kill everyone who gets in their way; don't tell me they wouldn't deserve it."

"But it doesn't give you the right to act the same way. When I was a kid my father kept telling me this and now I know why," she yelled.

"Your father?"

Angela shook her head and gave him a questioning look. "What?" Stiles raised an eyebrow and she could hear his heartbeat; he wasn't kidding. "No, I said my mother," she pointed out.

"No, you didn't."

"I di- Are you serious?"

Stiles nodded. "What's going on?" he asked almost worriedly as he glanced over at Scott.

"I have no idea," she replied. "I've always believed my mom told me that but now... Maybe I was wrong."

She had been listening to speeches like this one as a kid and, since she was living with her mother, always believed it was her who told them. But as she tried to remember all the occasions, all the training and teaching, the only person who came to her mind was her father. He was the one who kept telling her violence wouldn't solve anything, not her mother.

But at the same time it meant she remembered her childhood differently for some reason. It wasn't right. It couldn't be right. She heard stories of Alphas who can alter or delete memories but her mother wasn't one and there was no reason for her father to do that. There were only two people who could help her but only one of them was a real option she had. Jumping up, she started to gather her things.

"Hey, where are you going?" Stiles asked as he stood up as well.

She stopped to look at him. "There's someone I need to talk to," she said before she turned around and started to walk away.

"Angela, wait!"

Stiles quickly followed, walking next to her without asking further questions. The closer they got to Finstock's office, the fewer students they met, but Angela didn't mind it at all. They didn't need the audience and right now Stiles was the only one she was willing to let stay. First, he knew Finstock, and second, he would ask Peter later on to figure out where she went after their short conversation.

"I don't know who you are," came the voice from the man standing with his back to them after they opened the door, "I don't even care and now please get out of my office."

"It will only take a minute, I swear."

"Fine," he gave in as he sat down. "What is it?"

"I think we need your help," Angela stated after Stiles closed the door. "A tiny little favor to be exact," she corrected herself.

"No."

"You don't even know what I want to ask."

"If it has anything to do with the Economics test forget it."

"It's not school-related," she assured him. Finstock gave her a questioning look so she took a deep breath and said it out loud, "We need a trickster and you're the only available one around."

Stiles' mouth fell open as he looked over at her. His gaze moved back and forth between the two of them but didn't say anything. He probably didn't find the right words and Angela didn't feel like enlightening him now.

Meanwhile Finstock's eyes narrowed and there was no trace of the goofy teacher anymore. "How do you know about that?" he asked seriously. Angela flashed an arrogant smile at him, making sure her fangs became visible along with her yellow eyes. "Is it just me or are there more werewolves in this school these days than normal humans?" he asked from Stiles.

Before the boy could answer she said, "You're not human either."

"But at least I'm keeping it a secret," he replied. "How did you even find out?"

"My father thought me a few things when I was a kid." Angela picked up the name plate from his table and started playing with it as she went on. "And... basically... Greenberg. He's your favorite target, isn't he?" she asked with a small smile as she looked over at him.

The wide grin on the man's face was more like the one sadistic smile they were used to. "I just love to see him suffer. Is it a crime?"

"I never said it was."

"Good. Now get out of here."

"But-"

"I'm not helping anyone."

"Come on i-"

"Out."

"Just li-"

"Now."

"ARE YOU ENJOYING THIS?!"

"Actually, I do."

Angela bit her lower lip not to growl at him. Usually she could stay in perfect control but this man was pushing her closer and closer to the breaking point. Without breaking eye contact with him, she said, "Stiles, would you do me a favor and leave now? I need to talk to him alone."

The boy didn't reply right away, but she heard him as he scratched the back of his neck and shifted his weight from one foot to another. He said okay and turned around, his sneakers screeching on the floor, but he stopped a mere second later when Finstock cleared his throat. "Stilinski, if you dare to talk about this to McCall or anyone else, you'll be the next Greenberg," he said seriously. "Greenberg 2.0," he added with a smirk.

Stiles gulped. "I won't say a word."

"I'm listening," Finstock said seriously after Stiles closed the door and they were left alone.

* * *

**Author's note:** It's writer's block time! Well, it's been for a while actually. Sorry about it.


End file.
